


Blood/Longing

by emokid6969



Series: Please Come Home [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Other, Recovery, Romance, True Love, queer life partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:33:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28378518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emokid6969/pseuds/emokid6969
Summary: Dean is unsure.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Please Come Home [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077776
Kudos: 7





	Blood/Longing

"I'm not your slave," said Dean, harshly, as Sam stepped back and tried to find the words to explain, over the rushing of terror through their every limb, that they had finally purged the demon blood. The leaves on a nearby tree shivered, and Sam could tell that Dean wondered if it was Sam, causing it with telekinesis. Sam couldn't explain why the telekinesis had stayed even when the angels assured them that the demon blood was gone, even when New Orleans had looked into their very heart and declared them free. It wasn't clear whether explaining the telekinesis would reassure Dean or lead to an epic cosmic freakout, so Sam settled for gesturing to the sleeper van.

"I got this for us," said Sam, gesturing to its solid frame but dusty exterior. "I mean, I thought that, if we don't have a hotel room or a house, we can still at least have a bed, and a place to be warm. Look!" Sam pulled an inside panel out and revealed a space where propane canisters could fit. "It's a generator! And I don't know exactly how to hook it up yet but it powers the stove if we want, or there's air conditioning, and two massive heaters on either end." The van was small, but cozy, and Sam had already stuffed it with books -- not the research they pulled for cases, but pleasure-reading books: Alison Croggon and Tamora Pierce and Stephenie Meyer and Diana Rowland and Patricia C. Wrede and every CLAMP series ever in full printing, and George Sand, and a stack of unlabeled binders that, had Dean looked, would have revealed hundreds of printed-out Harry Potter fanfics; with Irresistible Poison and A Lacking of Foresight taking a full binder each.

Instead, Dean grimaced. "That's great," they said, insincerely and with tragic disinterest. Sam wilted, and didn't mention the thrice-blessed hurdy gurdy they had gotten, to try out from a luthier who had more, if Dean wanted their own, or the miniature strawberry-fairy lunchbox that glowed like an Internet sprite in Sam's magical Sight, or the plot of land covered in maple trees and tucked away far from any neighbor that Sam hadn't quite bought yet but which seemed very promising, if Dean turned out to be interested in that sort of thing. Maybe mentioning these things would have helped; Dean certainly noticed the gurdy, and Sam wished desperately that Dean could understand that it was all for them, all of it, without some terrible plot twist making that all come out like obligation instead of beautiful optimism.

"I need you," said Sam. "Like in a love-way, in a forever-my-heart way. Please?"

Dean stilled, the wind blowing gently across the back of their neck as they deliberated, fear warring with love. "Yeah, fuck it, all right. I love you."

Sam shook with relief and sat on the edge of the van, wrapping their arms around Dean's knees and weeping directly onto the denim.

"Hey, hey," said Dean, caressing Sam's cheek with their palm, tilting up Sam's head and looking into Sam's enormous, tear-filled eyes. "I'm here. I love you. I'm staying."

"Yeah, you are," said Sam, and blew their nose into a shirt snagged from the van's laundry pile.


End file.
